


A Kind of Magic

by profound-boning (farawaystardust)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Magic, Bullying, Canonical Character Death, Crushes, Dean-Centric, Family Drama, Friendship, Gen, Hufflepuff Dean, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Light Angst, M/M, Slytherin Castiel, Wizard Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 18:11:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13687068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farawaystardust/pseuds/profound-boning
Summary: On the morning of Dean Winchester's eleventh birthday, there's an owl in the tree in their front yard.





	A Kind of Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Dean W Big Bang](http://deanwbigbang.tumblr.com/) with huge thanks to my betas Maddie and Katie without whom this would not exist. Featuring art by [Amber](https://amberdreams.livejournal.com/551050.html)!

“Dee?” Sammy’s little voice breaks through the relative quiet of their Tuesday morning. They are sitting together in the window seat; Dean looks up from carefully tying his brother’s shoes before they walk to school.

“What’s up?”

“There’s an owl out there.”

Dean nods. “That’s nice.” He finishes the second double knot and pats Sam’s knee through his jeans.

“Really, Dee, look!” Sam, who is still staring at something out of the window, points and stares even more fervently. Dean rolls his eyes but, indulgently, he turns to look. There is a large maple tree in the lawn of their duplex, naked and stark against the pale morning sky, and a huge barn owl is sitting calmly on a branch. It appears to be looking straight at Dean.

“Uh.” He can’t help but feel a little surprised. It’s a bit unusual to see owls out in the daytime, isn’t it? Are there lots of owls around here? Dean hasn’t seen one before. “It looks, um, nice.”

“Let’s go say hi!”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Sammy.” Dean grabs their backpacks lying next to the door. “We should go or we’ll be late. Zip up your coat.”

He locks the front door carefully and grabs Sam’s mitten-clad hand; the kid is standing on their stoop just looking at the thing.

“There’s something in his mouth, Dee,” Sam whines, tugging on his arm.

Dean glances at it, huge eyes watching them unblinkingly. “Sure is. What do you think it is?”

“Maybe it’s a map somewhere. Or a note from his owner! What if it’s both? Like a letter and it’s like, ‘come and save me I’m trapped on an island’, and they drew a map and sent it away with their owl so they could get rescued. What if…”

He enjoys the sound of Sam’s voice creating story after story their whole long walk to school.

When they arrive home at half past four, the owl is still there.

“Wow, Dee,” Sam exclaims. “It’s so cool and ma- _jes_ -tic. I learned that word today.”

“Cool, buddy.” Dean unlocks the door and ushers Sam through it without another look. He’s not, like, scared of the thing. It’s just weird.

He makes sure Sam is comfortable at the table before he turns to the fridge and thinks about what they’ll eat. Maybe Dad will remember to bring something special home?

“Wait, Dee.” Dean turns at Sam’s surprised voice. “You can’t cook tonight!”

“Why not?” he replies.

“Because it’s your _birthday,”_ Sam says. “Look, I made you this cool card at school and all my friends signed it! Anyway you can’t cook because then we won’t have room for a cake.”

“Sammy, I dunno if we’ll even have a cake.”

Sam’s bottom lip trembles. “But why?”

“What if Dad forgot to buy one?” he says gently. It hurts to think that their dad might have forgotten about his birthday but frankly, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“No, he _has_ to get you cake. What kind of birthday doesn’t have a cake?”

Dean holds in a deep sigh and instead walks the two steps back to the table where Sam is clutching a construction paper card in his little fists. “But see,” Dean explains in his most reassuring voice, “I’ve got this awesome card, so that means it doesn’t matter if I get a cake or not.”

Big hazel eyes regard him carefully. “Are you sure, Dean? I didn’t know that.”

“Sure I’m sure.” Dean reaches for the card his little brother made him with a genuine smile on his face. “This is the best thing I could ever get. Promise.”

Sam gets up from his chair to wrap his scrawny arms around Dean’s middle. “Love you, Dee,” he mutters into Dean’s hoodie, “happy birthday.”

“Thanks, buddy.” Dean rests his nose on top of Sam’s head and squeezes his eyes shut. Even when things aren’t great with Dad, at least he and Sam will always have each other.

Finally, Sam permits him to make them peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. That way, Sam reasons, if they do get cake later they will still be hungry for it and if there’s no cake, they can always make mac and cheese instead. He munches while reading a short story about trees for his science class, and Dean works through a couple of math problems on his end of the table.

At about six, John comes lumbering in the door. He looks tired and a little cold but not angry so that’s good news.

“Hi, Daddy,” Sam chirps from his seat.

“Hey, boys. How was school?”

“It was great because my teacher let me make Dean a birthday card and all of my friends got to sign it.” Sam points to the pink paper sitting next to Dean’s math homework. Dean catches the tiniest movement of John’s mouth, like he’s about to sneer at it, before his face settles back to normal.

“Yeah, happy birthday champ. The big eleven.”

“And there’s an owl outside too, I think he might have another card for Dean.”

John’s head whips toward Sam so fast Dean wonders if it’d hurt. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, Dad.” Dean hastens to cover for his brother. “Sammy saw an owl this morning—“

“But he’s still there, Dee, he’s waiting for you.”

Slowly, Dean turns in his seat to peer out the window. In the fading light, he can still see the light brown owl and his huge bright eyes perched on a tree branch. It’s still carrying an off-white envelope in its beak and staring at Dean.

It’s strange, but it’s not anything to worry about, Dean thinks. Apparently John disagrees because he takes one look at the thing and runs back outside.

“Shoo!” he cries, waving his arms at the owl. “Get outta here!” The owl pays him no attention. John grabs hold of a smaller branch connected to the owl’s perch and he shakes it. “Hey, shoo!”

“Daddy, leave him alone,” Sam hollers from their doorstep. Dean had only just managed to keep Sam from sprinting out after their dad in his bare feet. “He just wants to give Dean a letter.”

The look on John’s face when he turns around will haunt Dean for years.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He takes a step toward Sam and Dean and points, his voice and eyes as hard as Dean’s ever seen them. “It’s just a dumb owl, and once it leaves us alone you’ll forget about it. Go back inside.”

Dean does not like the anger in his father’s voice, so he tugs Sam back through the doorway and shuts it firmly. Sam, wailing, goes to the kitchen window.

“He’s not hurting you!”

“Sam.” Dean tries desperately to console him. “It’s fine. Dad says it’s just a bird.”

“But it’s not, Dee, he’s a _special_ bird. I can feel it, okay? I don’t want him to get hurt and I want you to get your card.”

“How do you even know that’s for me, Sam? Have you ever heard of owls giving kids stuff before?”

“Well, no,” Sam concedes, wiping his snotty nose with one shirtsleeve. “But I know it. I know he’s just trying to give you something.”

Dean fights the urge to roll his eyes. Sam is without a doubt the most stubborn kid Dean knows, including himself. Instead he looks back out the window, only to see his dad engaged in a fierce game of keep away with the owl. It hops from branch to branch, always just outside of John’s reach. His dad looks really unhappy.

“This is just making him mad,” Dean mutters, “should I go out there?”

“Maybe if you go talk to the owl he’ll give you your card and go away so Daddy will stop being angry.” Dean hates the sound of Sam’s voice when he’s scared of their dad. Six-year-olds aren’t supposed to be afraid of their parents.

And, despite his reservations, Dean can’t help but wonder if Sam is onto something.

Hesitantly, Dean makes his way out onto their porch. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a flash of movement from the house across the street where the Fox family lives, but it was so quick that maybe he’d imagined it. John spots him immediately.

“Dean! Go back inside.”

For the first time in his life, Dean ignores his father’s command, and instead looks directly at the owl. They make eye contact and Dean is struck with just how intelligent the owl is, how certain it is of its purpose and the task at hand.

With more elegance than Dean can comprehend, the owl alights from its branch and swoops toward him, landing on his shoulder without the slightest hesitation. Its talons pinch at the bone there, but not enough to hurt, and from this distance Dean can read the writing on the card in its beak.

Distantly, he hears his dad’s voice shout “no!” but it’s too late. He’s just realized that it is indeed his name written in a delicate script across the envelope and their address below. Holy shit, Sammy was right.

He gently takes the card from the owl’s beak and is startled when the creature actually nuzzles his hand. Carefully, he runs two fingers up over the bird’s head, chuckling to himself at the way the owl leans into the touch and coos. Huh.

And then, just as suddenly as it had arrived, the owl departs. It launches from Dean’s shoulder and flaps enormous wings until it’s a speck in the dusky horizon. Dean stares after it, mouth agape, before looking at the thing in his hands. Before he can flip it over to open it, John is there. He’s frowning so hard at it that Dean wouldn’t be surprised if it combusted.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” John says. “It’s not right.”

“What wasn’t supposed to happen?” Dean wonders. Just then, Sam joins Dean on the porch, while John remains rooted to the ground just a few paces from the stairs.

“Dee, that was so cool! You got to pet the owl! Was it nice? What does your letter say?”

“I dunno. But it’s got my name on the front.”

“I told you so,” Sam teases.

“Boys,” John says sharply. “Inside. Now.”

“Yes sir,” Dean responds, and turns to usher Sam back through the door. He sees his dad turn and look at the house across the street before entering right behind Dean. John doesn’t try to take the letter from Dean’s hands; in fact, he seems wary of it, pointing to the dining room table as he walks to the fridge. Dean watches as John goes for the case of beer inside and then seems to change his mind. He reaches up above to where the liquor bottles are kept and pulls down one at random.

Dean is instantly on high alert. Dad has beers after work and after dinner all the time, but the liquor is for particularly bad days, and it makes the tough days even worse. What can Dean do to fix this? How can he make John happy so that he won’t drink?

“Um.” He hesitates, watching John pour the dark brown liquid into a tall glass. John proceeds to drink half of the glass, fill it up again, and then carry the thing over to the table. He sits down heavily on the chair next to Dean and stares with undisguised revulsion. Wherever this came from, his dad hates it.

Sam looks at John and his drink before he looks at Dean, his eyes round. “You gonna open it?”

After glancing at his father once more, Dean reaches out to flip the envelope over. It’s heavier than he was anticipating, the stationary thicker than normal paper, he thinks. He’s surprised to see a red circle holding the flap shut.

It’s tacky to the touch and it reminds Dean of something he’d seen in a movie, when the pirate had used his fancy ring to put his seal on a letter. Maybe this is the same thing? A wax seal? There’s a symbol on it like a knight’s shield and it’s divided into four sections with little animals in each part. And the text at the top of the shield reads _Hogwarts._

“Hogwarts?” he says aloud. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard about that before, has he?

John exhales angrily through his nose and takes another long gulp of whiskey. “This was not supposed to happen,” he finally says, clenching his fist around the glass. “It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” Dean wonders.

“That this is still happening even though she’s gone,” John spits, red in the face. “I wanted them to leave us alone and I thought that they were going to but now…” He drinks again.

Dean looks back at the card sitting so innocuously in front of him. He reaches out and breaks the seal, allowing the envelope to open. Several pieces of paper are folded neatly inside, and he focuses on reading the one on top first.

_Dear Mr Winchester,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Ellen Harvelle_

_Headmistress_

“What does it say?” Sam cranes his neck to read it.

“It’s…a school,” Dean replies. “It’s a magic school?” He looks at his dad. “What is it?”

“Just that.” John takes a long drink. “It’s a magic school for kids who can do magic, like, their whole families can do it. Or sometimes just one kid can do it but I can’t remember what the word for that is. Anyway, it’s…your mom went there.”

“Mom went there? Mom was magic?”

“Yeah,” John replies, his tone quiet and his posture slumped. “Yeah, your mom was… She was amazing.”

“I—I can’t believe it,” Dean breathes. “She did magic? Wait. How did she die if she can do magic?”

John winces and he doesn’t answer. Dean’s mind is racing. How could this be true? Even if his mom could do it, _he’s_ never done any magic; it doesn’t make sense. Why is this happening?

Someone knocks on their door. John grumbles under his breath but he gets up to answer it.

“Hi, Mrs. Baker!” Sam pipes up. He’d looked just as confused as Dean when their dad was talking about Mom and magic.

“Hello dears,” their elderly neighbor greets them, sweeping into the dining room. “Why the serious faces? Today is a wonderful day!”

“Mildred…” John warns but she pays him no mind. She’s beaming at Dean and it makes him blush.

“Happy birthday, Dean,” Mrs. Baker says, “I see you’ve already opened your letter from Ms. Harvelle. Now, there’s no reason to be anxious. We’re here for you every step of the way.”

“We don’t want this.” John smacks his hand on the kitchen counter. “I told them all to fuck off ages ago. Can’t you write them back and tell them no?”

“Nonsense.” Mrs. Baker drops into the chair opposite Dean. “Mary Campbell was a great witch and her legacy clearly lives on. The boy deserves the chance to learn what he can do.”

“But I can’t do anything,” Dean says, ashamed.

“Oh, Dean.” Mrs. Baker smiles at him. “I think you’ll find you can.” Dean just looks at her; it’s almost like he’s seeing a brand new person. Her kindly smile is the same, but the look in her eye says ‘I know something you don’t know.’

“Are you a wizard, Mrs. Baker?”

“I should think not, my dear,” she laughs, “but I am indeed a witch.”

Sam’s eyes are big as saucers. “Whoa.”

Mrs. Baker nods at him conspiratorially. “It’s no small thing to be able to use your magic. It’s something that takes lots of practice and study.” She turns to Dean again. “But sometimes magic manifests when you aren’t expecting it to, like when you are scared. Think hard now, Dean—haven’t you ever had something…inexplicable happen?”

“I…”

Dean recalls a summer’s day just two years ago when Sam had recently discovered the joy of climbing trees. There’s a short, squat one out behind their house that Sam had scaled with all the strength in his little arms and legs. And then he tried to fly. Terror had flooded through Dean as he watched his baby brother plummeting toward the ground. Suddenly, Sam wasn’t falling quite so fast. As if he was being cradled by the wind, Sam descended gently and landed carefully on his own two feet. Dean hadn’t thought about that day in a very long time but, in light of this discovery, perhaps it wasn’t a weird dream after all.

“Maybe I might’ve saved Sam once.” _I can do magic._

Mrs. Baker nods knowingly but before she can respond, John grunts, “I’m not doing this. He’s a _child_ and he doesn’t need a special school.”

“John Winchester, your son has a gift and you must not let it go to waste. Not to mention the harmful side effects of actively suppressing one’s magic. If Dean is half the wizard that Mary was then he would be an asset to the community, plus the legacy she left behind. You think everyone has just _forgotten_ about her? After what she did—”

“Stop talking,” John seethes, “stop.”

“What did she do?” Dean wonders aloud. There’s a strange tension in the air and it crackles when Mrs. Baker whips around to stare at John.

 _“He doesn’t know?_ His mother is one of the modern heroines of the wizarding community and you didn’t tell them?”

John is nearly purple in the face. “It is not your place to lecture me on parenting my sons. This is not a children’s story, and she was my _wife.”_

Mrs. Baker appears to have an angry rebuttal to this as well, but she holds her tongue. After taking a deep breath, she turns her back firmly on their dad and faces Dean and Sam.

“Mary’s job,” she answers Dean’s question, “was an important one. She was an Auror; they’re police officers for wizards.”

“Was it dangerous? Was Mommy like a superhero?” Sam asks with a happy smile.

“Yes—”

“Yes,” John interrupts, “and we both agreed to raise them without magic to avoid the danger, away from her family and their politics and the drama.”

“John Winchester, if you think _lying_ to them is protection I simply don’t know what to say,” Mrs. Baker answers in an angry tone. “Sam, dear, yes, it was a dangerous job. And your mother was one of the bravest and the best. We remember her, you know, we all know about how amazing she was.”

Dean looks between Mrs. Baker and his dad, bewildered. Dad always said that Mom died in an accident. Did something happen to her while she was working? But why wouldn’t he tell them?

“And John, by all means, keep them away from the Campbells,” Mrs. Baker continues, “but the wizarding community is so much bigger than one family and their outdated perspectives.”

There’s silence as John shifts uncomfortably. “I still don’t like it,” he finally says, “I don’t know the first thing about this school or what he needs. I remember all the stuff Mary had and her classes and the train…and I know that I am not welcome.”

“And you think Lorraine would make you handle it all alone?” Mrs. Baker raises her eyebrow at him. “Honestly, John, it’s like you’ve forgotten we’ve all been living here together for so long.” John grits his teeth. “Don’t you remember Asa? He’s in his fourth year at Hogwarts. There’s absolutely no need to worry about Dean at all; we will help you. All of you.” Mrs. Baker finally smiles again at Dean and at Sam, and something powerful stirs in Dean’s chest. He’s not sure who Lorraine and Asa are but it sounds like they know about his mom and their magic. _Magic. He can do magic._

“It feels right,” he says, looking at the letter still clutched in his hands. “When you talk about it like that. I feel…something.”

Mrs. Baker leans in and places one hand on his cheek. “My dear Dean, I’m so relieved to hear you say that. Once you learn about your mother’s work, once you can wear her colors and walk the same halls she did at your age, I think you’ll really love it.” She smiles and Dean can’t help but do the same.

“Will I get to go, too?” Sammy chimes in. “Is Dean going to be far away? Will you come home, Dean?”

“Of course he’ll come home,” Mrs. Baker answers, “he’ll get all his holidays off just like your school, Sam. I’m afraid he will be very far away for a while, but Asa will help him to travel safely. As for whether or not you can go, Sam, you’ll have to wait and see what happens when _you_ turn eleven. I’m sure if you keep studying at your regular school they will see how smart you are and ask you to come to Hogwarts straight away.”

Sam nods, looking determined, but when Dean looks at his dad, he still looks unhappy. He’s drunk a whole second cup of his liquor in the time since Mrs. Baker arrived. Dean worries that their dad will get mean like he so often does when he drinks, but maybe not. It comes and it goes.

“So that’s that,” John mutters, “he’s going.”

“I suppose I won’t force you to let him,” Mrs. Baker allows, “but John, I really must insist. It’s not healthy to keep him locked away from his power. They will help him there, you’ll see.”

“He’ll be like Mary was?”

“Well,” Mrs. Baker pauses. “I suppose I don’t know whether he’ll be in Gryffindor, too. Sometimes families are in the same House and other times they are not. It’s very individual, the Sorting.”

“He’ll need supplies. Mary had a…a wand.”

“Asa, Lorraine, and I can help with that, John. I daresay he won’t find his school supplies at Target this year.” Mrs. Baker turns back to Dean and winks at him. “You’ve got the list there, dear, hold on to that. Do you remember your neighbor Asa Fox?”

Dean recalls a lanky boy with messy brown hair and dirt on his cheeks. He remembers that when Asa touched a tree, all the branches would shake their limbs for him. “Yes,” he says, shocked at all the things he had made himself forget.

“Asa is in Gryffindor, the House for the daring and brave,” Mrs. Baker says, “he’s very smart and very sweet. It will be good to have a friend.”

Dean nods and glances at Sam. “I hope we’re both in that one.”

Sam cheers. “I can’t wait to go too, Dean. Are you gonna get a magical wand?”

“I guess so.” Dean turns to him. “I’m going to miss you, though.

“I know.” Sam shrugs. “But it’s just like regular school, except you’ll sleep there.”

Dean laughs. “I suppose you’re right.” He looks back at Mrs. Baker. “When do we start?”

She just chuckles and waves him off. “You still need to finish this year at your regular school, Dean. But Asa and his mom will come over soon to talk to you.” She looks at John when she says this, but John won’t look at her. He’s glaring hard at the countertop. “Now, Dean, this is important. You shouldn’t try to use your magic now that you know you have it, do you understand? Don’t try to make your chores go faster with it or try to hurt someone if they’re mean to you. That isn’t how magic is supposed to work, and it’s not good for you or for anyone. All the kids you go to school with are regular kids who don’t use magic. They won’t understand that you’re using it, and we don’t want anyone to get hurt. Okay?”

“Okay,” Dean agrees.

“Good boy. I should go, Dean, but I’m glad that I got to see you today. I was so hoping you’d get your letter.”

Dean smiles at her. “I’m glad,” he says, and he means it.

:     :     :     :     :

It feels like _years_ pass before Dean is finally finished with the fifth grade, with regular school entirely. The next time he goes to class it will be a _magic class_ in a _magic school_ with other people who can do _magic._

Sometimes Dean and Sam will make a blanket fort in their room and hide with a flashlight and talk about being wizards.

“I’ll be brave, just like Mom,” Dean will say, “an Auror who can protect people.”

“You get to live in a real life castle, Dean! And Asa said there totally _are_ dragons.”

“Definitely, but they won’t come to your class and eat you, so that’s good.”

Through July and August, Dean and Sam play just as they always have: they walk to the library, make lemonade in the kitchen, and, when John is in a good mood, they go to the lake. At first, Dean tries to ask about his mom some more. It makes his dad too sad to talk about her so he’s always avoided asking before, but now he _knows_ there’s something he doesn’t know and that his dad doesn’t want him to find out. So far, he is unsuccessful. And every couple of weeks, Lorraine and Asa will come over with some food for a dinner (they always come over to the Winchesters’ house because John doesn’t like for Dean to talk about Hogwarts and magic if he’s not there) and they will talk about the wizarding world with Dean, John, and Sam. They describe Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic, Quidditch, and more.

Asa tells him about the four Houses, but especially Gryffindor. It’s the best House, he says, for the brave and strong. They are also smart, loyal, and hard-working, but most of all they are brave. When Dean asked, Asa said he won’t tell him about Mary since his mother told him not to, but he will talk about Godric Gryffindor and other famous witches and wizards.

Dean still picks his brain about the other Houses, just in case he doesn’t make it into Gryffindor. He wants to be prepared.

“Well, Ravenclaws live inside of books,” Asa explains, legs outstretched in the grass of Dean’s backyard. “Not literally,” he clarifies after seeing Dean’s face. “But they’re smart enough to. Really clever, good memory, figure out riddles and puzzles really fast, you know?” Dean nods. He probably won’t go there. “And they have blue stuff for their color. Hufflepuffs have yellow and they’re really nice. Loyal, hard-working, uh, patient, and…yeah, nice. Then there’s the Slytherins. They’re not always nice. They wear green and they like to win at everything.” Asa looks thoughtfully at the sky. “Mom says it used to be worse, that relationships between the four Houses have improved and that we shouldn’t think negatively of Slytherins. But they kind of earn it, yeah? They’re kind of scary, some of them.”

“Oh, okay.” Dean accepts this. Sometimes kids are bullies. Better if he can more easily identify them.

“Now that I think about it, there’s a couple of older Gryffindor guys who are jerks,” Asa continues, brow furrowed. “So I guess it’s not all in one, right? Still, I’d be cautious, I guess. If you get Sorted there, I’ll probably come to check in on you every day.” He laughs. “Living down the dungeons. Scary.”

“In the _dungeons?_ Why?”

“Dunno,” Asa says, “the Founders picked the locations not us. Otherwise I would want to live on the first floor and not all the way up in our Tower. Next to the Great Hall would be nice, get your food quick. Ah, that’s Hufflepuff though. Lucky them.” He sighs. “Everyone’s got positives and negatives, you know? I, uh, I went on a date with a Ravenclaw girl last year. It was fine but she talked a lot about stuff that I didn’t really understand? I would try to ask questions about her life and talk about school but she didn’t want to talk about that. Which is fine, it was just confusing. Ah well, one bad date’s not the end of the world, huh?”

Dean is pretty sure he does _not_ want to go on any dates but he nods anyway. Maybe by the time he’s fourteen it’ll seem more interesting. Listening to Asa’s stories is exciting and it makes him feel better prepared for school. When Sam is around to join them, Asa will read them fairy tales from an old book his mom has. Almost their whole family are magical so Asa got to hear special stories growing up plus all the Disney movies Dean has gotten from the library to show to Sam.

Today, Asa and Ms. Fox are bringing Dean to a place called Diagon Alley so he can get the things that he needs for Hogwarts. The weather is nice and sunny when Dean steps out on the porch with them. Sam gives him a big hug and John grips his shoulder.

“Listen to Lorraine. And, uh, be good.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean replies, turning to greet his neighbor.

Asa waves at them. “Hey, Dean, ready to go? We’ll leave from inside my house. My mom can’t do her magic out in the street like this,” he explains.

“Right.” John grunts in displeasure, but Dean follows Asa across the street, looking over his shoulder to wave at Sam through the window.

“Good morning, Dean,” Lorraine greets him.

“Hello, Ms. Fox,” Dean responds politely.

“You remember what we’ve told you about apparating?” He nods. “We’ll do that today, from here straight to the shops and back. All you have to do is take my hand, and Asa’s too, and I’ll wave my wand.” She gestures lightly with the slender wooden stick in her hand. It’s a medium brown color and perfectly ordinary looking. You could almost mistake it for a Halloween costume if you didn’t know better.

Dean steps closer to Asa and his mom, reaching out to touch their hands together. Then Ms. Fox waves her wand again, this time sending them spinning through the atmosphere. Dean feels like his body is made of Laffy Taffy, his arms and legs stretched and squished unlike anything he has ever experienced. His lungs are a bit tight and he worries about breathing for just a moment before it’s over. They are standing on a cobblestone street somewhere far less sunny and warm than Lawrence. It seems to have only just stopped raining.

“Welcome to London, Dean,” Asa says bluntly before wrapping one arm around his shoulders. “Now let’s go get your things.”

They walk quickly, which Dean supposes is typical since they’ve been here several times before. He walks quickly, too, in order to keep up, but there are so many things that catch his attention. A window full of musical instruments, all making music on their own. Another shop with several knitting projects working on themselves all at once. They pass what is clearly a pet store and Dean feels wistful. John had immediately refused to allow Dean even an owl, but Asa has promised that Dean can borrow his to deliver letters. He’d even promised to show Sam how to send a reply.

“Up here, Dean.” Lorraine’s voice brings him back to the present. “This is Gringotts Bank,” she says, gesturing to the building behind her. “We’ll stop here to get some money.”

The inside is just as big and impressive as the outside; everything is white marble and shiny. People sit at tall desks all around the front room, and there are other little offices around. Dean follows Lorraine and Asa to the first available desk. After she has finished asking the employee (whose name tag says ‘Sully’ on it) for access to her vault, the man turns to Dean.

“Now, might you be related to the witch Mary Winchester, born Campbell?”

Dean startles. “Um. Yes?”

“This is her eldest, Dean,” Lorraine supplies, placing a comforting hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“That explains it.” Sully nods to himself, smiling, “You look like her. I suppose you haven’t gotten any identification?” Dean looks to Lorraine who shakes her head.

“We haven’t been to Ollivander’s yet.”

“I always did like Mary, but I’m afraid I can’t bend the rules quite that far. Without proving you’re her son, I can’t get you into the vault.”

“What vault?” Dean asks.

Sully laughs. “Why, the one your mother opened for you. ‘For the children of Mary Winchester neé Campbell.’” He passes over a sheet of paper reading just that at the top. “Set that up some time ago, put a bit of money in there, too. For school supplies and the like, I’m sure. When you’re ready, we can all go down to the Fox’s vault, but that’ll be all for today.”

“Of course, sir, we understand,” Lorraine answers. “Dean, would you like me to hold on to that for you? I can give it back once we get you home.”

“Sure,” Dean agrees easily, “I didn’t know that she had left me money.”

“Not to worry my dear, you’ll be fine today. You can come back and get it later.”

“Save your money for a broomstick, Dean,” Asa suggests excitedly. “And for Hogsmeade.” Dean nods and gratefully follows his neighbors and Sully to retrieve the special money that witches and wizards use. Asa tells him all about it and gives him a couple of solid, shiny coins to hold on to. Back in the bright sunlight of Diagon Alley, Asa pulls him toward a large fountain. The sculpture is simple and the basin filled with the same coins.

Asa nudges him. “Go on, Dean, make a wish. Want you to have a great first year at Hogwarts, so make it count.”

 _What should I wish for,_ Dean thinks to himself. What more does he need? Still, he thinks about Sam and about his new school and the new people he will meet there. Dean thinks about classes and magical spells and all the ways it could go wrong. So he wishes for them to go right.

“Atta boy.” Asa slings an arm around Dean’s shoulders and they turn away. “It’ll be great, Dean, you’ll see.”

After purchasing robes, gloves, and a fancy cape, after picking out the perfect cauldron and searching for the right textbooks, Dean stands outside a _wand shop._ Logically, he had considered that just as Lorraine, Asa, and Mrs. Baker all have wands, as his mother must have had her own wand, Dean would need to get his own wand as well. But looking at the door marked Ollivander’s is still an especially strange experience.

The man inside is _ancient._ Dean has never seen an elderly person get quite so animated as when Mr. Ollivander starts pulling long, thin boxes off of shelves to present to him. How is anything organized in here anyway?

More startling however was the realization that Mr. Ollivander knew his mother. “Yes, I remember every wand I’ve ever sold. Mary Campbell’s wand was perfectly suited for her, powerful and rigid. Your wand will be similarly suited to your abilities.”

Dean can only nod and retrieve the latest offering from its box. He glances at Asa, who nods reassuringly. He waves the wand, causing a nearby stack of papers to flutter listlessly.

“No, no, that’s not right,” Mr. Ollivander says, plucking the wand from Dean’s grasp. He hands over another box, then another, each with a disappointing result.

“Is it always like this?” Dean mutters under his breath, feeling more than a little put out.

“Sometimes,” Mr. Ollivander mumbles absentmindedly, running his hands over his ridiculously overstuffed shelves. “Occasionally, a wizard might find himself with a wand at the first try because the wand sees that the wizard is, well, easy to work with, has no defining character to speak of, you know, that sort of thing. Ah, stronger wands prefer to, shall we say, have a master who works amazing magic with them. Aha!”

This time, when Dean holds the box that Mr. Ollivander gave him, there’s a stillness in the air that wasn’t present before. He carefully pulls the top away to reveal a nice-looking wand. Not that he has any idea what constitutes a beautiful or an ugly wand, but this one seems appealing. It’s not strangely curved like others he’s seen, though it is slightly more than the one he’s seen Ms. Fox use. It’s a medium brown color with somewhat red undertones and when he takes the grip in his hand, Dean feels it: a pull deep in his chest, like a hook around his heart.

“There.” Mr. Ollivander beams with joy. “That is your wand, young Mr. Winchester. A standard twelve inches, Rowan wood befitting a philosopher and…” he pauses briefly. “And a rare phoenix feather core.”

“A philosopher? Wait, did you say a phoenix?” Dean asks, looking closely at the wooden stick in his hand. If he hadn’t felt something when he’d first held it, he wouldn’t believe it was anything special at all.

“Hm, wand woods and cores tend to point to characteristics within their witch or wizard,” Mr. Ollivander replies as he takes a few coins from Lorraine. “Yours says that you are a creative visionary, a devoted and passionate idealist. It’s supple, meaning you are adaptable. Your best magic will be defensive spells and…” he pauses again, smiling kindly at Dean. “Well, there _is_ a reason we wandmakers associate Rowan wood with purehearted wizards. Now off you go!”

And as quickly as it had begun, Dean finds himself back outside of the wand shop, holding his very own wand in his hands. _I can do magic._

“You heard the man!” Asa claps him on the shoulder. “Pure of heart and very powerful. A passionate idealist, no, wait, a philosopher!”

“Knock it off,” Dean says, but he’s blushing. All that fuss for him? “What’s yours then?”

“Blackthorn and unicorn hair because I’m a warrior but I’m sensitive.” Asa laughs. “And don’t ever let anyone tell you size doesn’t matter.”

“What…?”

“Boys!” Mrs. Fox calls to them from just down the busy street, and they hurry to catch up with her.

:     :     :     :     :

Sam is buzzing with energy when Dean gets home that night. He has a million questions about the shopping, the things they bought, and what all the wizards looked like.

“The wizards just look like we do, Sammy.”

“And like mom?”

“Yeah. They’re all regular-looking.”

Sam smiles and kicks his legs against Dean’s bed frame. “Cool.”

Dean huffs a laugh and ruffles Sam’s hair, making him pout. He stops pouting right away when Dean shows him his wand.

“This is amazing! You use it to do magic?”

“I will, yeah.” Dean nods. “But not now. Remember how Mrs. Baker told us I can only do magic when I’m at school?”

“Not cool,” Sam mutters, turning the slender wand over and over in his little hands. “Is mine gonna look like this?”

“I’m not sure, the guy who sells the wands says that every wand is really unique so maybe yours will be totally different. Like rainbow colored or something.”

“That would be _awesome,”_ Sam declares. He points the wand at their dresser, squeezes one eye shut in order to aim, and says, “pew.” Dean holds his breath, a little worried about getting in trouble for letting someone else use his wand, but nothing happens. Sam’s shoulders slump though, like he’s disappointed.

“Hey, I don’t know any spells yet either.” Dean wraps an arm around his brother’s neck. “But I do know where the last of our marshmallows are in the kitchen.”

“Awesome!” Sam repeats, bouncing upright and dragging Dean to the kitchen. Dad is out again, and Dean just hopes it’s not a bar. He’s only got a few more days at home before he goes to Hogwarts and he wants to have fun with his family.

John isn’t home much but Dean doesn’t pick a fight about it. Instead, he relishes every chance to run around with Sam. They go to all of their favorite spots and Sam draws him a lot of pictures so that Dean won’t forget about Lawrence when he’s at school.

Lorraine and Asa have explained about how they’ll be traveling to get to school, and unfortunately that they need to leave early in the morning due to the time zones.

Sam will absolutely _not_ be convinced that it’s better for him to sleep, that he can simply say goodbye to Dean the night before, oh no. Sam is going to get up early just like his big brother and say goodbye properly.

This, of course, means there are tears.

They’ve known for months now that Dean is leaving until December, but, when faced with the reality of it at four in the morning, Sam still cries fat tears and clings to his brother.

Dean isn’t as annoyed about it as the others seem to think he is. John certainly doesn’t get it, rolling his eyes at Sam. Dean isn’t sure that his dad slept the night before, but hopefully both he and Sam will go back to bed after this. So he rubs Sam’s back and tucks his nose against Sam’s ear, hugging him even closer.

“Soon you’ll be back at school too, Sam. I know how much you love school. And when you do really good there then they’re going to send you your Hogwarts letter, you’ll see.”

“Y—yeah.” Sam sniffles but he nods, looking up at Dean. “You promise you’ll be home for Christmas?”

“Of course I will. I can’t miss our hot chocolate or the pillow fort or anything.”

“Don’t forget the movies, Dee.”

“Never.” Dean squeezes Sam in his arms one more time before letting go. The tears well up fresh in Sam’s eyes but he bites his lip to hold them in. Dean turns to their dad.

“See you in a few months,” he says and sways forward into a hug. It’s a little awkward and clearly John wasn’t expecting it, but Dean gets a pat on the back before letting go. He turns to walk across the street, where Asa and Ms. Fox are already waiting in the living room with all of their belongings. He looks over his shoulder to wave at Sam. Lorraine expertly waves her wand at their stuff and it disappears with a pop. Then they take hands and apparate away from Dean’s quiet street.

As it turns out, all of the wizarding families in Kansas, Nebraska, and Missouri apparate to a designated spot in the latter and go together to the train station using something called a Portkey. When they appear next to their luggage, Dean looks around in expectation. There’s nothing ostentatious or obviously magical here. This part of Missouri looks a lot like Kansas, actually. A bit deserted, especially so early in the morning. But there’s another family already here and before too long, another four people pop up a short distance away.

“Are we all here?” Lorraine asks the group at large.

“Yes,” answers someone in the family who’s just arrived. “The Milton girl finished her seventh year last year, so they won’t be here again until next year.”

“Right. This is Dean, he’s starting this year and he’s our neighbor.” They others all say hello to him, and Dean just nods, feeling a bit shy. Lorraine turns back to their luggage and each of the other parents seem to be doing the same, bringing all of the suitcases, duffel bags, and a couple of cages with owls inside into one large pile.

Asa leans over and says, “Dean, after we grab the Portkey and we fly away or whatever you might feel sort of sick. It’s awful and we don’t use them that much ‘cause they suck. And we all need to grab it at the same time.”

“Grab what?” Dean wonders.

“Oh, it’s that.” Asa points to a long chain lying on the ground. It’s rusty in several places and definitely belongs in the trash.

“Why in the world are we grabbing that thing?” Dean stares at Asa, who laughs.

“Well, it has to be, like, trash or something, or else a Muggle might take it and accidentally activate the magic.”

“A what might what?”

Before Asa has time to explain though, Lorraine beckons them closer.

“Get ready now,” she says, looking at her watch. “It’ll be ready in just a few seconds. We should hold onto it now.”

Dean reluctantly copies Asa, squatting in the damp grass with his fingers wrapped around a nasty old chain. Nothing happens at first, and Dean takes a moment to observe the other students who are crouched nearby. They’re all wearing regular clothes, too, and they all look like they’re older than Dean. Suddenly, his belly button tingles a bit just before he is _tugged_ into the air. It’s totally unlike the apparating, which makes his body feel like a chewy piece of gum. This is like he’s been placed inside of a blender and it’s whirring around at top speed. Then, it starts to slow down.

“Get your legs under you!” Dean can faintly hear Asa’s voice shouting above the noise of the wind rushing around them and their quickly moving Portkey. “We’re going to land and you’ll want to use your feet so you don’t get hurt!”

It takes a good deal of effort, but by the time that their group slows to a stop inside a brick building, Dean has managed to get upright and to land on his feet. If he hadn’t moved, he might’ve wiped out on the hard ground.

“Thanks,” he tells Asa gratefully.

“No worries,” Asa replies, dropping the chain. Dean does the same and looks around. He’d noticed the brick before, and it seems the whole building is made of the beige-colored stone. The ceiling is very high, stretching far up and then becoming a big glass window to the sky above. It’s later in the morning here; they must have traveled a long way to get here. The column in front of Dean has a sign on it with the number eleven.

“We’ll go this way, Dean.” Asa nudges his shoulder and Dean turns around. Lorraine has stacked all of their things onto a little cart and she smiles at him.

“Why don’t I go first, Asa, with your things?”

“Sure, mom,” Asa agrees, “better to see it done first.”

Dean is confused but he doesn’t question it. They walk through an archway to the other side, where the columns on their left are marked ten and just a few down, they switch to number nine. They reach a stretch of wall and Dean waits for them to keep moving. Instead, Ms. Fox backs up slightly before taking off at a run, directly toward the wall. He doesn’t even have time to shout before she…disappears.

Asa laughs again, but it isn’t cruel. “It’s so fun to see that the first time, I think. You thought she was crazy, didn’t you?”

“Definitely. What happened?”

“Let’s find out,” Asa replies, and Dean realizes that _he_ will have to run straight at a solid brick wall.

“Uh…I guess?” Dean looks around at the other people. There are more trains here, probably dozens; it’s clearly a very busy train station in the middle of the day.

“Don’t worry about the Muggles, they don’t really see all of the magic that we do,” Asa explains. “To them it might be like we weren’t here at all, or maybe Mom ran onto some other train over there. You go first,” he pushes Dean lightly toward the wall.

Feeling for the first time like maybe he _is_ crazy, Dean runs.

But instead of an impact, Dean simply _appears_ somewhere else. He’s pretty sure it’s a new train station, and Ms. Fox is waiting just in front of him. She is still smiling.

“Not too bad, right?”

Dean turns to look at the wall behind him just in time to see Asa run through it as well. He smiles broadly and gestures at the single train on Dean’s other side, painted black with smoke curling out of the top.

“See? Easy as pie.” Asa slings an arm easily around Dean’s shoulders and leads him to the train. He points out all the other families who have Hogwarts stuff just like they do. This must be the special train for them: the Hogwarts Express. Asa shows Dean how they put all the suitcases, trunks, and other luggage under the cars, but he could bring a smaller bag on with him if he wanted to. Dean opts to grab his backpack, which Ms. Fox had told him to pack with a set of robes, his wand, some snacks, and something to do on the train ride.

Once he and Asa are ready, Ms. Fox embraces them both tightly.

“I’m so happy for you, Dean, truly. Your mother would be so proud of you.”

Dean’s chest aches anew thinking about his mom. Her light blonde hair and her smiling face. Standing right here on this platform waving him goodbye had she lived. He breathes deeply to fight the tears, and attempts to smile at Lorraine. She’s been so kind to him over these past few months.

“Thank you for everything,” he manages, hoisting his bag higher on his shoulder.

She smiles warmly at him. “Take care of yourself, honey.” Then she wraps Asa up in another hug and kisses the top of his head. “Write to me soon. Have a good trip, boys.” And with that, Asa and Dean board the train.

It’s very long, with lots of little rooms all down the sides. People are darting in and out of them, saying hello and hugging their friends. Someone calls Asa’s name and waves, making Asa smile brightly.

“Listen, Dean, um, I’m going to go and catch up with my friends now. It’s nothing personal, but lots of them live really far away, so I haven’t seen them in a long time now.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean answers, “just, uh, show me where I should sit?”

“Yeah buddy, we’ll get you set up.” Asa leads the way and knocks on a couple of doors until he finds an empty one. “Here, Dean, this can be your car or compartment or whatever you’d like to call it. Plenty of room for you to hang out. We’ll get to the castle in just a few hours.” Asa bounces on his feet briefly. “You sure you don’t mind if I go?”

“Of course not, go and see your friends. Thanks so much, Asa, for everything.”

“It was no problem, Dean, really. And we’ll catch up at school too, yeah?” He pats Dean’s shoulder with a fond smile on his face. “See you later.”

“Bye.” If Dean pretends really, really hard, then he won’t feel scared about being on his own.

He takes a deep breath and walks into the train car with his backpack in hand. It’s really more of a small duffel bag. Asa called it a messenger bag; he said all the other students have one and that the regular American backpacks are uncommon, so much so that he would stick out if he had one. It was awesome to have had Asa’s help; he doesn’t know if he’d be on this train at all without Asa and Ms. Fox insisting on all their time together.

Standing in his empty car, Dean settles in quickly, standing up on one seat to put his bag up above. He takes care to sit where he had stepped, in case that was rude or something.

Looking out of the window, Dean spots Lorraine still standing on the Platform, chatting with a few other people. They look happy. Dean wonders if his grandma and grandpa had looked the same when they brought Mary to this very same train and if, had his mother lived, she and John would be standing there now, looking so proud.

He startles when the sliding door pops open, revealing a boy about his age.

“Hi,” Dean says.

“Hello.” He’s wearing his black robes already with no tie, just a plain white button down like the ones Dean has packed in his luggage. “I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you sitting there. May I join you?” he asks politely. “Everywhere else is full.”

Dean gestures to the bench seat across from his and tries not to fidget. The other boy has large blue eyes and his skin is tan like he’s been running around outside all summer without any sunscreen.

“So, what’s your name? Where are you from?”

“Oh.” Dean blushes. He’d sort of forgotten to start talking and just stared at the stranger. How embarrassing. “I’m Dean Winchester and I live in Kansas with my dad and my little brother. His name is Sam and he’s only seven.”

“I have a little brother too but he’s eight.” The boy smiles. “His name is Samandriel but we call him Alfie. He and my sister Hael are twins, actually. Our older brothers are Gabriel and Michael and our older sister is named Hannah. We all live in Illinois. And I’m Castiel, but I like to be called Cas. You’re eleven, too?”

“Yeah.” Dean nods. Cas is a nice name. “You have lots of siblings.”

“Yes.” Cas laughs. “Michael can be kind of a butt sometimes. He’s in his seventh year so he knows _everything,_ but, I dunno, sometimes he’s still a butt.” Dean giggles, too. _Butt._ “It’s Hannah’s fourth year and Gabe’s second.”

“Hey, I know someone in fourth year. My neighbor, Asa Fox?”

“I don’t know him.” Cas looks thoughtful. “But maybe Hannah does. Do you know which House he’s in?”

“The red one, Gryffindor. That’s the one my mom was in.”

“Nice.” Cas smiles toothily. “Michael might know him, too. Since he’s Head Boy this year he’s supposed to know lots of people.” Dean nods like that means anything to him. “All of my siblings are in Slytherin though, so maybe not unless Hannah has a class with him. I want to be in there too, I hope.”

“In Slytherin?” Dean wrinkles his nose. “Isn’t that scary?”

Cas frowns a bit. “No. Momma says people are superstitious about Slytherin but that’s just a stereotype and they shouldn’t worry about it. Neither should I if I go there. And she was in it, too, so.” Cas juts out his chin and crosses his arms, looking very determined about informing Dean that his opinions on Slytherin are, apparently, old and outdated.

“Cool,” Dean says easily. “I don’t really know anything about wizards or Hogwarts so I’m just kind of learning everything.”

“You don’t know anything about Hogwarts?” Cas drops his arms and tilts his head, his face creased with curiosity. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Dean shifts, a little nervous to reveal that he doesn’t know a whole lot about their school. Cas seems nice enough though. “My dad’s not a wizard so I didn’t know about any of this stuff. My mom was, but she—she died when I was really little.”

“Oh, Dean.” Cas’s eyes are huge and sad. “I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay.” It’s not, but Dean doesn’t really want to tell Cas how much it hurts right now. That seeing Asa’s mom kiss him goodbye on the Platform had made him feel really, really lonely. “I got whatever magic I do have from her, I guess. I don’t really know.”

“Well, did you get your books and stuff? Your robes and your wand and a cauldron? What about a—oh, I bet you don’t really know about Quidditch then! Or what about—no, you might not know that either. Do you know any spells yet? Oh, Dean! This is so exciting!”

“It is?” Dean can’t help but smile at Cas’s babbling.

“Yes! I can show you so many things, if you’d like.”

Suddenly, the train blows its whistle and begins to move. Cas slides quickly over to the window and peers around for a moment. Then he spots someone and waves, smiling widely. Dean peeks out, too, and sees a tall man with the same dark hair and blue eyes as Cas waving in their direction. He’s standing with a shorter woman with medium length light brown hair, who is holding a boy on her hip, pointing as he waves frantically. The man, who must be Cas’s dad, stoops to pick up a girl who looks like a tiny Cas. He talks to her with a happy smile on his face, gesturing in their direction and prompting her to wave as well.

“Bye, Alfie! Bye, Hael!” Cas says, even though Dean’s pretty sure they can’t hear him. He fights the emotion welling up in his throat and sits back, picking at a bit of fuzz on his hoodie.

The train chugs along and Cas watches out the window until the Platform recedes into the distance. Then he sits back too and sighs contentedly. At last, Cas seems to realize that he’s still sitting with Dean and he remembers what they had been talking about, and his eyes light up once more.

“Oh!” he gasps. “Dean, I can’t wait for you to find out about Quidditch. And Hogwarts, Dean. Oh, it’s so beautiful! I’ve seen lots of pictures. My dad was in Ravenclaw.”

“I know that one,” Dean says. “That’s where all the smart kids go.”

“Ha, I suppose so. Dad’s pretty smart. He’s an accountant for Muggles and for wizards which I think is pretty neat. And my mom works at St. Mungo’s, she’s a doctor for people with mental health problems.” Cas looks so proud reciting all of this information that Dean can’t bear to interrupt him to ask a bunch of questions.

“Smarty-pants like you, _Castiel,_ I think you ought to be in Ravenclaw.” Dean grins at him.

Cas rolls his eyes. “I’ll be happy anywhere, but I’d rather be close to my siblings, you know?”

“Definitely,” he agrees, “maybe Sammy’ll get a letter like I did and he’ll come here in a few years.”

“I hope so, too, Dean. You seem really nice and I bet Sam is nice, too.”

Dean blushes again. “Thanks, Cas.” Cas beams at him and little drop of warm sunshine fills Dean’s lungs as they sit there, smiling at each other across the car.

The train has rumbled on not too much farther before someone pops open their door to greet them.

“Anything from the trolley, dears?”

“Hello,” Cas responds politely. Dean is too shocked to say anything. The woman who’d spoken had also pushed a huge rolling thing into view with several shelves absolutely overflowing with goodies. Dean has no idea what any of these items are but the packaging is brightly colored and he can smell chocolate and other sweet treats.

Cas seems to enjoy Dean’s wide-eyed excitement and he delights in naming several of the concoctions available for him.

“Have you ever tried these, Dean? They’re so good! Momma never lets me have more than one chocolate frog at a time. I brought all my cards in my suitcase, if you want to see. Are you thirsty?” Cas rambles, pulling out a little sack from the front of his robes with his wizarding money inside.

“Um,” Dean hesitates. He doesn’t particularly want Cas to buy a bunch of snacks he’s never ever heard of before, what if he doesn’t like them? Cas looks back at him and his face changes.

“How about I pick out some of my favorites and we’ll start with that. Do you like chocolate?”

“Chocolate’s great, and I like sweet stuff better than sour.” Dean smiles gratefully at his new friend. “Thanks, Cas.”

“It’s no trouble,” Cas chirps before turning to face the Food Lady. He asks for a bunch of weird things like pumpkin pasties and jelly slugs. Dean is a little surprised by how much money Cas has, but he decides it can’t be that expensive just to buy some candy. He wishes he could share some of this with Sam.

Cas finishes the transaction and proceeds to create a sizable pile of goodies next to Dean and then sit down himself on the other side of it. Smiling, he grabs a red box from the stack and opens it with flourish. He explains every piece of candy to Dean before splitting it with him, and Dean just tries to soak it all in. The scenery outside the window blurs past, green and brown and blue, and he basks in the feeling of making a friend.

:     :     :     :     :

The walk from the train station to the lake is surreal. Cas had suggested that Dean change into his uniform and Dean feels grateful to have listened because now he blends in with all the other kids. A huge man named Rufus is the one guiding them to the shore, a giant among eleven-year-olds. Dean eyes the enchanted canoes skeptically but Cas seems really eager to get in, so Dean doesn’t protest. Cas explains that after this year they’ll ride in carriages from the station to the school, but that this way affords them the best view of the castle.

Dean hadn’t really put it together that he’d be living and going to school in a _castle_ until he sees the thing. It looms over the inky black lake, candlelit windows casting sparkling reflections over the water, mingling with the stars and the moon overhead. There’s a background noise of chatter, but Dean remains focused on the castle. Hogwarts. His mom was here; his mom made this same journey that Dean is making now. Dean feels a sudden pulse of gratitude in his chest for Mrs. Baker, the Fox family, and Castiel, seated right beside him, because now he can feel more connected to his mom than ever before. He touches the wand in his pocket and thinks _I can do magic._

When they reach the docks, Dean smiles and accepts the hand Cas extends to him to help him climb out. Together, they enter the Great Hall. Dean can understand immediately why that is its name. It’s a very large room with four long tables, lots of suits of armor (are those magic?), and then another big table up at the front. Dean realizes that the candles all around the room are actually floating in the air right before he notices that the ceiling is just like a window showing them the nighttime sky.

“Whoa,” he breathes, nudging Cas with his shoulder. Cas glances up and nods, grinning in Dean’s periphery. They walk with the rest of the kids who had come on the boats toward the very front. Dean notices Cas wave at some kids sitting at a table where everyone is wearing green. Some other kids are waving too, and Dean feels sort of silly for not knowing anyone. Then Asa catches his eye and gives him two thumbs up. Dean walks a bit taller after that.

“Good evening,” greets the woman standing at the front of the hall. Everyone turns to look at her and their little group stops, people getting up on their toes to look.

“That’s the headmistress, Ms. Harvelle,” Cas whispers. Dean nods and listens as she welcomes everyone back for a new year before she talks to the group of new students.

“And to our first years,” she says, “a very special welcome indeed. Some of you have siblings and other family members who are here. Others have never seen our halls before. I hope that you will enjoy yourselves greatly, learn extraordinary things, and grow into the gifted young witches and wizards we know that you can be. I hope you will be kind, be clever, and be good. I know that our staff and your fellow students will help you in every way that they can, so let us begin with the Sorting.”

“Do we pick our table now?” Dean whispers to Cas.

“No, no.” Cas clutches his sleeve. “The Sorting Hat will tell you.”

Dean feels confused but he lets it go. Instead, he watches as a skinny boy named Inias is called the front of the room. He sits on a stool and Ms. Harvelle places a large hat on his head. It looks like a storybook version of a witch’s hat but it’s rather old and frumpy-looking. Dean elects not to say anything about this to Cas, who is watching everything with a shining face. Dean looks back to the front just in time to see the fabric of the hat split just slightly in order to form a mouth, which promptly shouts _‘Slytherin!’_ for all to hear. Everyone begins to clap, and so Dean follows along, watching as Inias smiles and returns the hat to Ms. Harvelle before walking to the table at the far left of the Hall, sitting among the students with green ties.

“Alicia Banes.”

A girl with curly, poofy hair climbs the stairs, grinning over her shoulder at someone else in the crowd. She sits carefully on the stool and waits for only a few seconds before the hat cries, _‘Hufflepuff!’_

“Which one is that?” Dean leans into Cas’s side while they clap again.

“The yellow one, Dean.” That’s not quite what Dean was after, but he’ll have time to learn about the Houses later, he supposes.

After Alicia goes Max Banes, Dorothy Baum, then Kali Bagchi; each table cheers loudly for their own. A boy named Ash with weird longish hair goes to Ravenclaw, a girl with the same last name as the Headmistress goes to Gryffindor, a brother and sister go to separate houses, and then it’s Cas’s turn. He glances around quickly before the hat rests on his curls and he waits.

He doesn’t have to wait very long at all for the hat to call _‘Slytherin!’_ and Dean cheers loudly for his friend. He sees a couple of boys and a girl all stand at the table and hug Cas tightly when he joins them. _That must be his family,_ Dean thinks, and he bites his lip. It would be nice to go to Slytherin and stay with his friend. Can you be friends with people who are in a different House than yours?

Dean shifts back and forth impatiently as the list goes on. Finally, _finally_ they reach the end of the alphabet and it’s his turn. He climbs the stairs and goes eagerly to the stool. Quickly, he glances at the Slytherin table and catches Cas’s eye, and then he’s wearing a talking hat.

“Greetings, Dean Winchester,” it speaks into his ear.

“Uh, hello,” Dean replies warily. “Am I talking to you now? Because I don’t really know which House I’m supposed to go to.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, I don’t know much about Hogwarts at all, or magic. I do know that my mom was in Gryffindor and that my new friend is in Slytherin. Can you put me in one of them?”

“Oh no,” the Hat says, “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” Dean wonders.

“There are specific qualities and values that would make someone a Gryffindor or a Slytherin, and I do not see any of those as quite the right fit for you. That is not to say that you are not brave or shrewd or wise, but none of those are the most striking thing about you,” the Hat muses.

“Then what am I?”

“Dean, you think the world is black and white but it isn’t. You will need to question that kind of thinking and learn to value yourself first. You are both a wizard and a Muggle and that is just fine. You need not hide from either part of you; you will find community no matter what. Your determination, your heart, your strength, and, most importantly, your loyalty will serve you well here. _Hufflepuff!”_

Dean opens his eyes to applause and he walks on shaking legs to the table Cas had helpfully identified earlier. His ears are ringing a bit and his cheeks feel hot; it was embarrassing to be up there in front of the whole school. Hopefully it wasn’t weird that he talked with the Hat a bit. He’ll have to ask Cas.

Thinking of his friend, Dean turns to look over his shoulder across the tables to find him. Cas is sitting next to a taller boy who looks just like him, only a bit older. When he sees Dean is looking at him, Cas smiles brightly and waves. Dean waves back and hopes against hope that no one is about to tell him that Hufflepuffs and Slytherins cannot be friends.

The feast that follows the Sorting is unlike anything Dean has ever seen. All the food he could ever want appears within arm’s reach. His cup fills with Dr Pepper with only a thought. It’s amazing. _I can do magic._

“Your potatoes look delicious,” a girl sitting across from him comments. Her dark hair hangs straight down to her shoulders. She smiles but she still looks a bit nervous; Dean is glad he’s not the only one. “I’m Tessa.”

“Dean.”

The girl next to her introduces herself very quietly as Kelly Kline. Next to her is a boy named Mick Davies and a girl named Tracy Bell, and then it’s Alicia, the first girl who went up to be Sorted.

“Hey,” greets the boy sitting next to Dean. “I’m Benny Lafitte.”

Dean shakes the outstretched hand gratefully. “Nice to meet you, Benny.”

“This here is Garth,” Benny continues, slinging his arm around the scrawny boy on his other side.

“How do you do?” Garth grins toothily at him.

“Hi.” Dean smiles.

A girl with long brown hair leans around the pair to offer Dean a greeting as well. “I’m Lisa Braeden.”

“And I’m Max, the superior Banes twin.” Alicia kicks at her brother from across the big table but they’re both grinning.

“How come you two ended up here but those other twins were separated?” Dean asks.

Max shrugs. “That’s up to them and the Sorting Hat, I’d imagine. Kind of has a different conversation with everyone.”

Alicia nods and so does Tracy, who says, “my older sisters were both in Ravenclaw but the Hat said this is the best place for me.”

“What is _here_ anyway?” Dean says, feeling a bit stupid as soon as the words leave his mouth. Surely he should know about the different Houses by now. It seems like the group doesn’t mind, though.

“We’re Hufflepuffs, Dean, badgers,” Garth says sagely. “Loyal and hardworking. We care about people.”

“My mom was in Gryffindor,” Dean says, “which is for bravery.”

“Sure,” Kelly acknowledges, “but there’s more than one way to be brave.” The others nod approvingly and tuck back in to their meals. Soon their chatter turns to the magically replenishing cups and plates, the floating candles above them, and the anticipation of seeing their common room and dormitories.

The Great Hall gets quiet again when Ms. Harvelle stands up at the table.

“Welcome again, everyone, to the first feast of the year. First years, please follow your Prefects and mind your way. Your luggage is waiting for you. Goodnight!”

Dean watches as the older students at the far end of the table leave first. Two remain behind and, once the noise dies down a little, they stand up.

“Hi guys, I’m Donnie and that’s Billie. We are sixth year students and we were chosen as the Hufflepuff Prefects. We have some other responsibilities on top of our classes, and tonight it’s all about you. Welcome to Hogwarts,” the boy greets them cheerfully. He’s very tall already with nice brown hair and a kind smile. Billie is just as tall as he is, her uniform spotlessly clean and fitted and her eyes razor sharp.

Dean feels a bit nervous again and he wishes he’d had a chance to get Cas’s attention, but his friend and the other Slytherins have all left the Hall. He touches his wand where it rests in the pocket of his robe and he exhales.

“We’ll lead you downstairs to the common room now,” Billie says, “please keep in mind that the common room is for _us._ While you will certainly befriend people from every House over the next few years, the Hufflepuff common room and dormitories are meant for us and we’d like to keep them that way. Donnie and I will give you the password. We will also help you get back to the classrooms tomorrow so you can get to all your lessons. We take pride in attendance and punctuality, so take care to keep track of your schedule. And finally, if you need anything, anything at all, please come and talk to us.” She gestures between herself and Donnie, her face open and warm. “Whether it’s tonight or next week or right before Christmas break, if you are curious or worried about something, Donnie and I want to help you.” Dean believes her and follows, starry-eyed, when they file out of the Great Hall.

Dean is surprised that they only need to walk a short distance before Billie tells them to wait. They are just around the corner and down the hall from the place where he gets to eat? Awesome. And it appears that the kitchen is right next door. He comes to a stop between Benny and Lisa, leaning on tip toe to see what Donnie is doing. They are facing a wall with one enormous barrel in the center, surrounded by dozens of others in varying sizes. Donnie has moved to the far right and is pointing to a barrel that appears to be just the same as all the rest.

“This one,” he says, “is how you enter the common room. Tap it like this for Hel-ga Huff-le-puff and you will enter. Make sure it’s this barrel, two from the bottom and right in the middle, or else…” He trails off and winks at the first years, then he taps out the correct rhythm. Billie gestures for them to step back just as the largest barrel swings open to reveal a door. She ushers them through it, and Dean instantly feels _safe._

Potted plants hang from the ceiling, which is fairly low, and the whole room is circular. It feels like sunshine and warmth in here even though it’s quite late at night. There are several large and plush couches, armchairs, and big cushions for lounging all around, colors alternating between yellow, black, and copper tones. There’s a good handful of students lounging in here already, some in their pajamas, most wearing Hufflepuff yellow. They wave good-naturedly at the group of first years, instructing them to greet Helga who hangs in a large portrait above the fireplace.

“She is one of the founders of Hogwarts,” Billie explains, “and the founder of this particular House. Helga believed that everyone who comes to Hogwarts belongs here and she prized those students who demonstrated kindness, perseverance, and loyalty.” Helga waves from her portrait and Dean startles before remembering that’s _normal_ here.

He can’t quite believe that this is his home now, but it feels amazing. Even the wood carvings of badgers seem to be greeting him and welcoming him in. He feels the weight of his new wand in his pocket and his heart flutters, again, with _I can do magic._

Donnie summons him, Benny, Mick, Garth, and Max and directs them through an archway off to the left. “These are the boys’ dormitories,” he says, gesturing at the first door. “And this is your room. You five are roommates now and your belongings should all be in there. There’s a nice big bathroom and it should be quite warm.” Donnie opens the door for them, pointing out the features of the room. “Gryffindor and Ravenclaw have their Houses up in tall towers and with the weather, sometimes their sleep can be disturbed. But we’re underground here, so it will stay warm and quiet through the night. You’re welcome to be here or in the common room, just be courteous of the others. Like Billie said, we’ll take you around tomorrow so you know where your classes are. You can come and find me any time, whatever you need, all right?” He looks at each of them in turn before smiling and bidding them a good night.

Dean sees his luggage has been propped up against the bed closest to the door so he moves to check it out. Maybe he should unpack his books, but the rest can wait until tomorrow.

“I don’t know about you lads,” Mick says from his bed, “but I’m exhausted.”

“Me too,” Garth agrees. “It’s been a really long day.”

“I want to go see the common room again, and talk to Alicia,” Max says, leaving his robe and tie behind and exchanging his shoes for slippers. “I’ll be quiet coming in though. And we can talk more tomorrow, of course.”

“Definitely.” Dean nods. “We’ve got loads of time to hang out.”

Benny sticks his head out from the bathroom where he’s already got his toothbrush in his mouth. “Wha’ he said.”

Max chuckles. “Good night, then.”

A chorus of good nights echo around the room as each of them prepares to sleep. Dean shrugs into an old Kansas City Royals t shirt and gray sweatpants before pulling back the quilts that adorn his bed. He can’t remember the name of this type of bed but it’s quite fancy, with tall poles on each corner holding up large gray curtains. He pulls the copper-colored tassels and watches the fabric shut around him, like a bigger version of the blanket forts he and Sammy built in their bedroom.

Checking to make sure his wand is on his bedside table, Dean lays back on his pillows and feels his eyes get heavy almost immediately. He hopes that his dad hasn’t been too angry or drunk, and that Sam isn’t too sad or lonely all alone in their room; Dean tells himself that he needs to ask Cas about sending letters home as soon as possible. Then he thinks about Cas, who might be lying asleep in his own fancy bed in his green-themed bedroom by now. The last thing he remembers thinking about is his mom who used to fall asleep in her Gryffindor dormitory and eat her meals in the same Great Hall Dean ate in tonight.

Dean falls asleep content and hopeful.

:     :     :     :     :

At breakfast the following morning, Dean keeps one eye on his plate of waffles and the other on the Slytherin table, eager for Cas to appear. He’d followed his new roommates in dressing in his uniform before meeting Donnie in the common room, who walked with them back to the Great Hall. They sat together with the girls and Billie and talked about what to expect. Billie is especially fond of Charms class and Donnie loves Herbology.

Right before they are about to leave, Cas walks in with some other Slytherins. The other first years came in a little while ago, so these must be Cas’s siblings.

“Uh, Donnie,” Dean stammers, “I, uh. That’s—I would like to say hi to my friend. Over there.”

Donnie glances at the table and smiles, waving his hand. “Of course, buddy, just come back over here when I wave so we can all leave together.”

“Sure,” Dean agrees and hurries over to the other table. He doesn’t catch what Cas’s brother says to him, but he does see the way it makes Cas throw his head back and laugh. “Hi, Cas,” he greets anxiously.

“Dean!” Cas absolutely beams at him and puts his arms out for a hug. Dean goes gladly, patting his friend on the back. “How is everything?”

“It’s been great, really,” Dean says. “I love our room and stuff. I’m still not really sure what a Hufflepuff is, but that’s okay. Um, the food’s really good.”

“That it is,” one of Cas’s brothers agrees, nodding and scarfing down a large cinnamon roll.

“Oh, where are my manners,” Cas huffs. “Dean, these are my brothers Gabriel and Michael, and my sister, Hannah. Guys, this is Dean, my friend from the train.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Hannah says, putting her hand out for Dean to shake. “Any friend of Cas’s is welcome here.”

Michael also shakes Dean’s hand, but Gabriel is too busy eating to do more than smile and nod. Michael excuses himself right after this, making his way up and down the table to greet everyone.

“Is Michael one of your Prefects?” Dean wonders. He sits down next to Cas, keeping his eye on Donnie.

“No,” Cas explains, reaching for a bagel. “He’s the Head Boy, that means that he’s in charge of all the Prefects. He was one last year though.”

“Oh, cool. My Prefects are really nice. Billie is kind of scary, I guess, like, she could totally beat me up if I did something stupid.”

“Yeah.” Cas laughs. They’re all a bit like that, I think. Being really good students and stuff. Mine are Abaddon and Ishim.” He points them out to Dean. “Don’t tell anyone, but I like Abaddon better.”

Dean nods. He notices Donnie stand up, and he quickly thinks of when he might get to see Cas again.

“Do we have classes together?” he asks. “How does that work?”

“We might have a couple of them, yeah.” Cas smiles brightly. “And flying lessons, of course.”

“The…what?”

Cas laughs again. “That’s going to be my favorite, obviously. Maybe I’ll see you in here at lunch? Dinner, at the latest.”

Donnie looks impatient. “Uh, I gotta go, sorry,” Dean apologizes, “but, yes, see you then.”

“Bye, Dean.” Cas gives him one last smile before they part ways.

Dean doesn’t see Cas in his two lessons that morning or in his designated lunch break, but when he is directed to the Quidditch pitch for flying lessons there is a familiar head of dark hair standing among the other first years.

“Hi, Dean!” Cas greets him brightly. He seems to be nearly vibrating with energy, his eyes darting between Dean and the broomsticks that are laying in the grass. “I am so excited!”

“I can tell,” Dean replies, grinning at his friend. “I have to admit when I bought a pointy hat in Hogsmeade I was expecting the flying broom to come with it.”

“Don’t be silly, first years can’t have their own brooms,” Cas informs him, hopping restlessly from one foot to the other. “Mine’s at home waiting for me.”

“Oh, you fly often then?”

“Yeah, well, Michael taught us first when he came back for Christmas his first year. I’ve ridden with him and my parents of course, we’ve got a bunch of extra brooms at home. There’s a picture of me riding with my dad when I was just a baby, you know.”

Dean stares at him. “And you weren’t scared?”

“Of course not.” Cas shrugs, nearly pacing now with excitement. “Once you learn it’s easier than you think and you won’t ever forget how to do it.”

“Like riding a bike, then,” Dean quips.

“Huh?”

Dean doesn’t have a chance to explain his joke to Cas because an adult blows sharply into the whistle around her neck and waves at the group to come closer to both her and the broomsticks. Cas certainly doesn’t need to be told twice, and he grabs Dean’s hand to pull him along.

“Good afternoon everyone. I’m Professor Jody Mills and I’ll be teaching your flying lessons these next few months. We’ll meet right here every week until I am satisfied with your ability, no later than the end of term when the weather turns bad.” Professor Mills looks stern but kind, however, Dean is still really nervous about actually _sitting on a broom._ “Some of us have ridden on broomstick before and others have not. I will not tolerate any ridicule of your fellow students’ abilities. Furthermore, any sabotage will be reported directly to your Head of House and the Headmistress. Speaking of, Hufflepuffs, I will not be going easy on you because I am your Head. In fact, that means I know how to retrieve you from the common room if you skip a lesson.” She winks at Dean and he flushes hard.

Finally, she turns to gesture at the broomsticks on the ground. “These are all standard training brooms. Please go and stand beside one, and please believe me when I say that they are all _exactly_ the same, and if I hear any whining you will start the term on my bad side. That is not a place you wish to be.”

Cas had started moving on ‘go’ and dragged Dean with him. He’s so palpably excited and Dean is happy for his friend but just _looking_ at the brooms is making him nervous. He’s never been on a plane or anything that flies. Why would he? It’s a terrible, awful, very bad idea, and he definitely doesn’t want to die. It’s only been one day! Surely he is supposed to live longer than just one day at Hogwarts. So why does he need to fly? He’s done apparition and Portkeys by now so _obviously_ he can go places without flying, right?

“Everyone step up to your broom,” Professor Mills says, “just a few inches from the left of it if you’re right-handed, if you’re left-handed just step to the other side. What’s your name? Inias? Inias, don’t stand on top of the thing, you’ll get injured. There you go, just to the side. And you?” She’s suddenly standing in front of Dean, who is not doing so well with the breathing and staying calm. “You’re Dean, right? Dean, are you okay?”

“Um…” It’s so embarrassing that he’s freaking out. Nobody else is scared; he looks like a stupid little kid now.

“It’s perfectly fine to be nervous,” she replies in a low voice. “You’re safe, though.” She pats his shoulder and turns to face the rest of the group. “Now, hold your hand out over the broom, and say, ‘up.’”

Cas’s flies into his waiting palm immediately. One or two other students gape at him, another few have also gotten their broom to obey them, and Dean is frozen.

“Uh, up,” he tries. The broom twitches pathetically on the ground.

“Oh, nice try there, Puff,” a boy Dean doesn’t know jeers. He’s standing across from Dean and wearing a red Gryffindor tie. The boy next to the first snickers and gives him a fist bump. Both of them were two of the ones who got their broom to move on the first try.

“You be quiet, Arthur,” Cas warns, glaring at the second boy who is wearing Slytherin green, so he must be one of Cas’s roommates. “There’s no need to be rude. Go on, Dean, try it again.”

“Um, right.” Dean shakes himself off and looks down at the broom again. “Up.” It jumps an inch or so, but it still doesn’t leap upright like Cas’s. The Slytherin boy laughs out loud this time and Dean feels a stupid, embarrassing prickling sensation in his eyes.

Cas reaches out and puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Once more, Dean, come on. You can do it.”

Dean takes a deep breath. _“Up.”_ The broom shoots up and into his outstretched hand. Dean lets out a relieved sigh and looks at Cas, beaming. “Ha!”

“I knew it.” Cas nods and smiles back.

Professor Mills sees that everyone is holding their broomstick and she instructs them to mount it and to carefully rise into the air. Dean has no idea how she expects them to go from standing there to _hovering_ but luckily Cas doesn’t move until he does.

“I just lean forward a bit,” Cas explains, dark curls falling into his eyes. Then he demonstrates leaning forward and kicks his legs to show that he’s floating before letting himself fall. Dean watches with wide eyes before looking down at the broom he’s holding. This is _ridiculous._

But he does it, and leaning forward seems to do the trick. His broom moves more quickly than Cas’s had, propelling him a foot into the air. He shrieks but before he really has time to panic, Cas is there again.

“Dean,” he says, smiling. “You did it!”

“Huh?” Dean breathes and actually looks around himself. He’s sitting astride the broomstick—which is kind of uncomfortable, honestly—and is suspended in midair. Cas is next to him, his fingers curled into Dean’s sleeve and grinning madly.

“You’re doing great. You’ll be flying in no time.”

“Winchester, Novak!” Professor Mills calls to them. “Come back down. Gently now.”

Cas nods and leans back, showing Dean how to descend. He follows immediately, not wanting to be up in the air alone. Back on solid ground, Dean’s knees wobble under him and he takes a fortifying breath.

“Thanks, Cas.” He finally finds his voice.

Cas responds by reaching for his hand and squeezing it quickly before turning to listen to Professor Mills explain the exercises they’ll be doing next. But Dean keeps looking at Cas, looking at the back of his head where his brown hair curls around his ears and neck, at the black robes hanging off of his shoulders, and the broomstick in his hand. Dean isn’t really sure _why_ he’s still staring at Cas, but it probably has something to do with the way it makes his chest feel calm. Despite the situation and the fear of flying, Dean isn’t as afraid anymore when he’s looking at Cas.

:     :     :     :     :

By the end of the week, Dean and Cas discover that they share two classes they really enjoy, Potions and Transfiguration. Those classes are taught by two Scottish professors who are kind of scary and they seem to hate each other a bit. Dean’s not really sure what that’s about. He is most excited about his Charms class with Professor Bobby Singer. Professor Singer wears jeans and baseball caps and seems really _normal_ in the middle of all the magic.

It’s still pretty strange to wake up underground and go to classes in a castle, but he’s adjusting. His roommates are really cool and he gets to meet other people in his classes, like Jo and Charlie from Gryffindor in his Herbology class and Kevin and Ash from Ravenclaw in History of Magic.

It doesn’t take long for Dean to figure out the House stereotypes. And for some people, it fits pretty well. Charlie with her red hair is a real spitfire and Jo is as courageous as they come. Kevin and Ash both have different skills but they’re wildly intelligent. Cas in Slytherin is harder to nail down. Lots of people apparently had the same thought as Dean that Slytherin would be the place for bullies. The first day of flying lessons proved that to only be partially true—there are bullies in every House. Still, the Slytherin kids seem aloof, the older kids can be know-it-alls, and it seems like not as many Hufflepuffs and Slytherins are friends with each other.

So why does Cas belong in Slytherin? No doubt he’s very clever, and Dean can already tell how much he cares about Quidditch and flying lessons. It’s all he ever talks about, showing Dean his trading cards for different professional Quidditch players and discussing the current competitive seasons and his predictions. It’s fascinating but it leaves Dean more than a little confused at points, simply smiling and nodding at Cas when it seems appropriate. In turn, Cas has all sorts of questions about Dean. What was it like to grow up without any magic in the house? Not even self-washing dishes and toilets? He wants to know all of the music that Dean likes, since wizarding musicians are very different. Cas prefers books to movies and has seemingly read all of their textbooks before they even started school. And most of all, Cas wants to know about cars.

Dean is in the middle of explaining the brakes system for the third time in as many weeks when owls descend upon them having breakfast in the Great Hall. Over the first weekend of school, Cas and Dean met in the library to write letters to their families and do homework, which turned into several hours of Cas teaching Dean new spells and Dean telling Cas about Kansas. Apparently Lawrence is a _lot_ bigger than the town that Cas is from in Illinois, but Chicago and Kansas City are pretty similar. They spend most all of their free time all around the school learning from each other.

Just like the first week, a big white owl lands gracefully on Cas’s shoulder with a letter in its beak. Cas trades the letter for several bites of food from his plate with a smile.

“Hello, Minerva,” Cas greets her, “say hi, Dean.”

“Uh…hello.” Dean still feels strange to greet a bird but the owl always blinks at him like she understands and Dean has just stopped questioning any of the weirdness around him.

Then a nice-looking brown owl lands near him, and the letter in its beak confirms that it has a reply letter for him.

“Oh, hi,” Dean says immediately, thinking of Minerva. He takes the envelope and looks down at his plate. “Do you even like waffles? Maybe some egg?”

Cas nods. “Try the water, he might be thirsty.”

Dean pushes his cup toward the owl who starts drinking right away. “I can have a new cup, right?” Dean whispers.

“Sure,” Cas says, “grab that one over there. I think Balthazar’s gone to class already.”

“Right.” Dean makes the exchange. “Balthazar seems really nice.”

“Yeah, he is. Me and him and Benjamin all have our beds on one side of the room. They’re both awesome,” Cas says, “and Inias is just fine but he’s over by Ketch and I just don’t like that guy.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, “I thought you said he was nice to you?”

“Well, sure, but he was a jerk to you in our first flying lesson,” Cas explains, frowning, “and I guess he and your roommate Mick Davies knew each other before. Like, they live in the same neighborhood or something. And he was, well, Ketch was kind of saying to some older boys that he doesn’t like Mick as much anymore since he was Sorted into Hufflepuff. I just—I just don’t understand why we’re still being mean to people based on where they got Sorted, you know?”

Dean frowns too. “That is stupid. Mick’s really nice, and he told all of us that Ketch is his friend. I don’t get it.”

“It’s just old stereotypes and…and _bullshit,”_ Cas hisses under his breath. “Like that all Slytherins are evil and Hufflepuffs are too nice. It’s stupid.”

“We’re…nice?”

“Like I said, Dean, it’s stupid.” Cas hurries to explain. “It’s like how sometimes people think that when someone is nice that they’re being stupid or that it’s fake-nice. Because people are mean.”

“Oh.” Dean hadn’t heard about any of that and it makes him feel cold inside. “Well, I know that Slytherins aren’t evil because you’re not.”

Cas smiles with one corner of his mouth and ducks his head. “And I know Hufflepuffs are just as brave, just as smart, and just as amazing as anyone else, because you’re my best friend and you’re all of those things.”

Dean’s face feels hot and he can’t avoid smiling back at Cas. “Shut up.” He pauses. “But you’re my best friend, too.”

Beaming now, Cas nudges their shoulders together before picking up the letter Minerva left him. “Let’s read these before we head out.”

“Right, yeah.” Dean had nearly forgotten about it. His letter is still sitting on the table next to his old cup that the owl drank from; he picks it up. It’s obvious that Sam wrote Dean’s name and that John wrote the address beneath it. Ms. Fox must have shown him what to do and how to give it to the owl. He carefully opens the back and retrieves two pieces of paper from inside, one covered in his brother’s handwriting and the other in his dad’s. Dean opts to read Sammy’s first.

_Hi Dean! This is so exciting! I never wrote a letter like this before! I told my teacher and he said it’s nice to write you a letter. He wanted to read it but I told him it was top seecret. I wish you were here to look at my homework but its OK because you are at your new school! How is HOGWARTS? I have the first letter you got it is on your bed. Thank you for sending us a letter and an owl! He was thirsty and I gave him some water. I am happy you have a freind named CAS who is a WIZARD. I bet your new bed room is awe some! I laughed when you said there is lots of food and pie. That sounds like you Dean. I hope you have so much fun and learn lots of things and teach them all to me very soon. I love you. Love, Sam_

His red colored pencil printing looks great, although the letters are a little too large and a bit wobbly at times. It’s okay though because Sammy is only in the second grade this year so they’ll practice handwriting some more; it will be good for him to have a few more years in regular schools before he gets his own letter to Hogwarts. Dean hopes it will be good for him. Dean was good at school but just a little bit lonely. That made it easier to leave for Hogwarts but it was difficult some days. Mostly, Dean just feels happy to read Sam’s words, especially the ‘I love you.’ He can feel it like a ball of warmth around his heart.

Hesitantly, he picks up his dad’s letter next. Sam didn’t say anything about their dad; Dean just hopes that he’s been working and not drinking as much now that Dean isn’t there to watch out for Sam in his absence.

_Dean,_

_Good to hear from you. Mrs. Fox said that the traveling went fine. She came over again when we got your letter, asking if there was anything she could help with so we asked her about hufflepuff and your flying lessons. Didn’t she say that families usually end up in the same house? I don’t understand why you aren’t in Gryffindor like your mother was. Hufflepuff doesn’t seem like a good fit for you if all they are good for is hard work and being nice. Your mom used to say that they were good at finding things. You should find a way to switch. Are the classes too easy? You were always good at science so you should be in the advanced classes I think. Do they teach you people any science or math? Anything practical like shop? If your mom was here she would know. Sam wants to know which house he will go to now that you’re in a different one and I told him I don’t know. You should talk to him about it._

_Take care of yourself._

_Dad_

“Hey, Cas?”

“Hmm?”

“Are Hufflepuffs good at finding things?” Dean asks.

Cas looks up at him curiously, mirth dancing in his eyes. “I suppose so? I think badgers can be scavengers, or something, or they just like to collect stuff. Why?”

“Just something my mom used to say, I guess.” Dean frowns down at the letter. “My dad said the same thing about Hufflepuffs being nice. What’s so wrong with that?”

“There is nothing wrong with it, Dean, and there’s nothing wrong with you for being in Hufflepuff, just like there’s nothing wrong with me for being in Slytherin. No matter what other people seem to think.”

Dean nods, smiling gratefully at his friend. He tucks the letters back in their envelope and stuffs it into his bag. “Anything interesting in yours?”

“I haven’t quite finished it yet,” Cas laughs, pointing out the letter that is clearly from Hael and Alfie. “I’ll take them with me to read later. Momma was just telling me about the bees in her gardens. After she spent three paragraphs being excited that I’m in Slytherin, too, her and dad. They’re so strange.” Cas rolls his eyes but he’s smiling. Dean feels a little sadness but mostly he feels glad for his friend to have a family like this, so loving and supportive.

“Been fun seeing your older siblings all the time again?”

“Oh, yes.” Cas nods enthusiastically while gathering all of his things. “It’s so strange to think that Michael was right here in my position just a few short years ago, and then Hannah and Gabe followed him, you know? When we said goodbye to Gabe I knew it would be my turn next, but it’s still weird.”

Dean agrees despite not having a similar experience, walking alongside Cas out of the Great Hall and toward the classrooms. They talk all the way to the door of Dean’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class, where he waves goodbye as Cas heads next door to his History of Magic class.

“Bye, Dean, see you in Potions!” Cas says before disappearing around the corner. Dean already feels sad to be missing him, which is sort of weird since they were just together for all of breakfast, having met up in the Great Hall at precisely 7:30 AM and walked in together. Breakfast and lunch are ‘free for alls,’ as Gabriel would say. Cas tells him this just means that it doesn’t matter where you sit, not like at dinner or for important meals they might have at the school. All Dean knows is that those are his chances to sit with Cas at the Slytherin table and for Cas to join him and the Hufflepuffs, since Max might sit with them and sometimes Cas’s friend Benjamin, too, or even their other friends like Victor, Cesar, or Kevin.

Upon entering his classroom, Dean spots Benny saving a seat just a couple of rows from the front. He hurries to join him, placing his bag on the floor.

“Hey,” Benny greets, leaning forward on the desk.

“Morning. Professor Mullen walk in yet?”

“No, but I still doubt he’ll blow anything up like day one.” Benny shakes his head, smiling.

That first day will go down as one of Dean’s best and craziest experiences. Cain seems to normally be a pretty reserved and quiet sort of guy. He doesn’t shout, from what Dean’s seen so far and just standing there he looks like he could break you in half, so it’s not like he needs to yell to intimidate anyone.

With all the first year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors sitting in their desks, Cain Mullen had burst into the room spectacularly. Spells like fireworks sparking all over, a large doe made of white light bounding through the room, pixies chittering in a small blue cloud over their heads; needless to say, it was very magical.

Dean’s been awestruck by the professor ever since. He’s not sure about the long hair but he _definitely_ wants to be that much of a badass when he’s an adult.

Jo whips a paper ball at the back of his head. “Chill out, Winchester, no more pixies, I hope.”

“None indeed, Ms. Harvelle,” Professor Mullen intones from the balcony. Seriously, what kind of ridiculous classroom includes an ornate stone balcony? The kind where the professor wants to descend upon their students to bestow amazing magic before vanishing back up the stairs, Dean supposes. This school is _awesome._

The whole flying thing never gets any more enjoyable but it does get easier with Cas beside him, even when Cas floats off to do laps around the other kids and Professor Mills gives him _a stern talk_ before asking him about his interest in Quidditch. Cas is totally a teacher’s pet at flying lessons, just like in their Potions class taught by the formidable Professor Rowena MacLeod. Apparently she is a brilliant witch and developed all sorts of new methods for potion-making, and half the class is totally in love with her.

Dean loves her, too, and also Professor Fergus ‘call me Crowley’ MacLeod, and he wishes they would stop trying to pit their students against the other. Donnie assures him it’s all just funny to the students and they only play along in class. Also that everyone has a crazy story about Professor Mullen.

Overdramatic professors included, Dean loves everything about Hogwarts, and his problems come exclusively from other things outside of his control.

As the weeks pass, Dean’s sense of belonging grows strong, even though he continues to get disappointed letters from his dad. For as much as Dean likes Charlie, Victor, and the other Gryffindors, he isn’t one and he doesn’t want to be. He loves sitting with Lisa in the common room until three in the morning, making his way through every available dessert with Benny at dinner, pranking Garth, and getting Cassie to procrastinate on their homework together until the last minute and then begging Billie and Donnie for help. So no matter how many times his dad questions his placement in Hufflepuff, Dean knows that this is right.

But it’s not just his dad who thinks Hufflepuff isn’t the right place for him, or a good place to be at all. It turns out that some people in his mom’s family are here at Hogwarts as well. Christian and Gwen Campbell are in their fifth and seventh years and they are in Gryffindor, just like his mom. Gwen doesn’t seem to pay him any mind, but whenever he and Christian cross paths, his cousin won’t leave him alone.

“Hey, Winchester!” Christian will sneer at him. “How are things down by the kitchens? Without Mommy at home to fatten you up, I’m sure this is as good as it’s going to get for you.”

“Hey, _Dean,_ just got a care package from Grandma Deanna today. Just a reminder that when your mom left us she made the worst mistake of her life.”

“Hello, Winchester, I’m so glad she took that Muggle ratshit’s name so I don’t have to be associated with you.”

“Hey, Winchester, just a heads up: your kind don’t deserve to be here. Since you already are, though, let’s just say it’s a good thing you’re in Hufflepuff and not an actually _good_ House like Gryffindor.”

When Benny or one of his other friends is there, they’ll pat Dean on the back and glare until Christian passes them. All of the Hufflepuffs are quietly supportive, though they keep telling Dean he should talk to Billie or Donnie about it.

It gets worse when Cole Trenton joins in. Dean used to only see Cole in their shared classes but over the passing weeks, it seems like Cole is more and more bothered by his presence. Dean realizes that Christian must be telling Cole all sorts of terrible things about Dean and his family back in their common room and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

It all comes to a head on the day that Christian and Cole start teasing him in front of a bunch of Slytherins. Dean is standing with Cas and Meg Masters talking about their next essay for Transfiguration when all of his books fall out of his arms and onto the floor. Christian offers Cole a high-five for having spilled Dean’s things and they laugh.

“Excuse me?” Cas gazes furiously at the two Gryffindors. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Just having a bit of fun, _snake,_ don’t hurt yourself thinking about it now,” Christian replies. Dean flushes with anger and frustration, fighting back tears.

“Yeah,” Cole joins in, “mind your own business.”

“Uh, it’s most definitely my business when you’re pushing my best friend around,” Cas retorts. He points at Dean’s books. “You ought to fix this.”

“I don’t _ought_ to do anything, especially not something a lousy _blood traitor Slytherin_ tells me to do,” Christian replies.

“Would you care to repeat that, Christian Campbell?” A tall and redheaded girl in Slytherin robes suddenly moves to stand between Dean and Cas and the bullies. “I _know_ I didn’t just overhear you teasing a couple of first years. Overcompensating much?”

Christian frowns deeply while Cole just looks a bit confused. “None of your business, you stuck up—”

“Finish that sentence and you’ll be serving some of your detention in the hospital wing.”

Then, Professor Singer turns the corner at one end of the hallway and Professor MacLeod approaches from the other, likely having been summoned by one of Cas’s classmates.

“Well,” Professor Singer says upon surveying the cluster of students. “What do we have here?”

“Getting attacked by Slytherins,” Cole chimes in and, through the angry outburst from the bystanders, Professor Singer rolls his eyes.

“Please tell me that you’re not going with _that_ idiotic explanation, Cole. Christian, you have one chance to fess up.” To Dean’s amazement, Christian doesn’t say anything, just glares at his own shoes. Professor Singer sighs and turns to the Slytherin girl. “Abaddon, what happened?”

“When I turned around, the short one had just knocked Dean Winchester’s books out of his arms. When Castiel here called him out for it, Christian took it upon himself to call one of my own a snake and blood traitor. I was about to hex his nose clean off his face before you turned the corner.” Abaddon glances at Professor MacLeod. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“I think losing his nose would be an improvement,” Professor MacLeod responds, casting a disgusted eye over Christian’s irate figure. “It’s really too bad there were professors nearby.”

Professor Singer grunts but it doesn’t look like he’s disagreeing. “You two march straight to my office,” he says gravely. “You can kiss your free time for the rest of the semester goodbye while you’re walking. Rowena, join us?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she replies and Professor Singer turns to follow his students. Before she departs as well, Rowena places one hand on Abaddon’s shoulder and the other on Cas’s. “Good on you both. Abaddon, you took your role as Prefect seriously by defending not only young Castiel but also Dean who is one of yours by extension, is that right?” Abaddon nods, a small smile on her red lips. “Castiel, you were there to defend your friend against an attack, even when someone then attacked _you_ for doing so. You must never let someone like that make you feel badly for being in Slytherin when all you are doing is being a _good person.”_

“Yes ma’am.” Cas nods vigorously before looking over at Dean. Dean knows he should look at his friend but he can’t lift his eyes from the ground.

“I must go ensure those boys are properly punished. Dean,” Professor MacLeod addresses him. “That wasn’t the first time, was it dear?” Dean can’t find the words and so he simply shakes his head no. “Then I will make sure that is taken into consideration. I look forward to sharing their detentions with Professor Singer.” Without another word, she stalks away.

“I need to go to class,” Abaddon says, breaking the quiet after Professor MacLeod’s departure. “Cas, she’s right, you did the right thing. I’m happy for you. And Dean?” He glances in her direction. “Those two are going to regret ever even looking at you by the end of today but if it happens again, you just say the word.” She gestures menacingly with her wand and turns on her heel. Cas’s friend Meg fans herself watching Abaddon walk away.

“She’s so awesome,” Meg purrs, “I’m glad she was here. And that I found Prof MacLeod so quickly. You two okay?” She looks at Dean.

He shrugs, staring blankly at his books which are still lying on the ground. Meg huffs and flicks her wand, causing the work to collect neatly in the air and fall gently back into Dean’s arms.

“Later, dorks.” She hits Cas’s shoulder before disappearing into a nearby classroom. Everyone seems to have disappeared, leaving Dean and Cas alone in the large hallway.

“Dean?” Cas says quietly, leaning toward him. Dean can’t really breathe around the lump in his throat. “Dean, I’m sorry. That older guy was your cousin right? What a jerk. I know you said you don’t really know him at all, but—”

“I gotta—I’m gonna go, Cas.” Dean trips over his words and nearly over his feet, too, backing away.

“Oh…okay,” Cas says hesitantly, “I’ll—we should go to the library?”

“Later,” Dean answers, finally spinning and running away as fast as he can manage. His heart is pounding in his ears as Dean takes the stairs two at a time until he makes it down to the common room. He flies through to his bedroom and shuts the door quickly.

Why was today more frustrating than the others? Dean’s not really sure. It was nothing that hadn’t happened before. And yet, he’s sitting on the floor of his cozy dormitory, face pressed to his knees, and crying hard. It sucks and it _hurts_ and he just tries to breathe through it.

Someone knocks on the door and he almost falls over in shock. Which of his Housemates has noticed him crying like a baby?

“Dean?” It’s Billie’s voice he hears. “You gonna let me in?”

He gets up and cracks the door, not willing to meet Billie’s eyes. He goes to his bed and sits at the edge, still breathing deep.

“Kelly has kept me updated about what a douchebag your cousin Christian is,” Billie says calmly, crossing the room. “I thought you’d tell someone before it got to this point. You talk to Donnie at all?” Dean shakes his head. “Well, I hate to say it, but you can’t hold on to this by yourself. It’s okay that you need people, Dean.” She sits down and looks at him. “Doesn’t normally get to you like this, though, does it? What’s happened?”

Dean shrugs. “Dunno really.” He clears his throat. “Uh. Got another letter from my dad, I guess.” Billie nods, knowing full well what he means. “And today, Christian bullied Cas, too.”

“Ah. That’ll do it.”

“What do you mean?”

Billie places one hand on his shoulder. “He went after your best friend. That must have hurt.”

“‘Course. He’s horrible.”

“Sounds about right,” she agrees. “I heard they’ll get detentions.”

Dean nods. “They won’t stop though.”

“Probably not,” Billie says, “not this time.” Dean glances at her. “The thing about guys like Christian and that little jerk Cole is that they think they’re great when they hurt people, but the truth is that we all see them. We all see how gross and cruel they are, and none of us want to spend time with people like that. Who has the time for it? We’d rather hang out with someone like you, or like Cas who is very sweet and a good friend. Doesn’t matter what House you’re in, if you’re an ass, nobody likes you.” Dean nods slowly. “So they might continue to say rude things or knock your stuff out of your hands. But the difference is that you’re always going to have someone there beside you to tell them off and to help you collect your things. And someday, Christian is going to realize he has no one. Same with Cole if he doesn’t change. And it won’t matter that they’re in Gryffindor because they’re still going to be terrible people.”

“Thanks, Billie.” Dean smiles and it actually feels genuine. “I think you’re right.”

“I know I am,” she replies. “Now get out of here.”

“Uh,” Dean stammers, wiping at his face.

“I mean, you don’t have to, like, go anywhere, you just have to go and see Cas. He’s outside the common room and he’s saying won’t leave until he sees you.”

“Oh.” Dean blushes and he’s not sure why. He gets up anyway and crosses the common room, noonday sun shining through their small windows, and hauls himself out of their door. Sure enough, Cas is standing there and he looks up expectantly when Dean appears.

“Good, you’re all right.” He nods with satisfaction. “I can’t go in, obviously, but I’m glad Billie came along. That’s her name, right, your Prefect?”

“Yes,” Dean says. His smile gets bigger just looking at Cas, who looks back at him with increasing confusion.

“…Yes?”

“Just glad you’re here, buddy.”

“Where else would I be, Dean?” The tone of Cas's voice is so earnest, but he has a funny kind of squint on his face that scrunches up the bridge of his nose. His head is tilted quizzically to one side; Dean would never say it out loud to Cas, but the pose kind of reminds Dean of Mrs. Baker’s golden retriever Rosie whenever she heard a high pitched noise. He swallows the urge to laugh, but the thought makes the tightness in his chest unravel a little, replaced with a warmth, a lightness he can’t really explain.

"I just meant… Thanks for looking out for me, is all. You really don't have to, Cas, so, you know, thank you."

Dean goes quiet again. His face feels hot now and he finds himself shuffling his feet, looking down at the floor, plucking invisible lint from his robes as a couple of fourth years brush past them on their way into the common room, joking and shoving each other playfully. He snaps out of it at the feeling of Cas grasping his arm firmly. When he looks up, he's surprised to find Cas's blue eyes boring into his with startling intensity.

“I do, Dean. I do have to, because that's what friends do for each other, and I wish you knew…” Cas pauses, suddenly seeming to realize that his grip on Dean's arm is hard enough to hurt; he lets go gently and steps back a bit, shaking his head. “I wish you knew,” he says, softer now, “that you don't just have to let people make you feel bad about yourself because your d—because you've been taught that that's just how things are.”

Another group of students walks by, and Dean takes advantage of the break in the conversation to study Cas with mounting curiosity—his hair is as wild as usual but his face is oddly flushed, and he's licking his lips the way he does when he's thinking really hard about something, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. Dean doesn't know if he's ever seen Cas behave quite like this before and he's not sure how to respond.

When it's quiet once more, Cas carefully meets his eyes again. “You do deserve good things, Dean.”

Dean doesn't know exactly what to say to that. The tightness in his chest is back, along with the embarrassing realization that he's just a moment or two away from crying, again. And maybe Cas seems to realize it, too, because just as Dean's trying to blink away the shameful sting in his eyes, Cas clears his throat loudly and pulls his mouth into a lopsided grin. “So…how about the library, hmm? I know _you_ need to study for Divination.”

“I always need to study for Divination.” Dean rolls his eyes, giving a rough chuckle. “It might as well be ancient Greek or something.”

Cas picks up his book bag from where it rests on the floor. “Should I take that as a yes?” he asks, arching one brow as he settles it on his shoulder.

He does want to go with Cas, to lose himself in the nonsense of their chatter and his homework and forget all about his terrible morning but, despite himself, Dean hesitates.

“Actually, Cas, I was kind of thinking I'd just hang out here until lunch. I'm—I'm not ready yet.”

“Sure, Dean, I understand.” Cas says. Dean is grateful that Cas doesn’t seem upset with him for wanting to be alone. Instead, Cas gives him a little wave as he turns to start down the long hallway, and he asks, "see you there?"

“You know it, pal.” Dean watches him walk away, suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness, and with a kind of fondness that he's only ever associated with Sam before. Then, before he can help himself, he's shouting after Cas's retreating back. “Hey, Cas!”

Cas turns, a hint of that confused look stealing over his features momentarily. “Yes, Dean?”

“Thanks again… Really.”

Cas shakes his head, shooting a wide, radiant grin back over his shoulder as he goes, leaving Dean to wonder at how fast his heart is beating.

:     :     :     :     :

Between classes and study session in the library, late nights and lazy Sunday afternoons, Christmas arrives out of nowhere. Dean feels so unprepared to say goodbye so soon, even just for a few weeks. A few weeks without magic, without his Housemates, and without Cas.

Final examinations sweep over them, with Dean spending time in the library for his essays or in empty classrooms practicing spells. He wants to wow Professor Crowley with his progress in Transfiguration.

Cas finds him there, wand pointed victoriously at a golden goblet that used to be a mouse.

“That one’s good, Dean, no tail this time!”

Dean huffs and smacks Cas on the arm, grinning. “You finished your History final then?”

“Finally,” Cas exhales, rolling his eyes. “History of Quidditch? No problem. History of Magic? Eh.”

“You think it’s so boring because you grew up with it,” Dean reasons for the sixtieth time. “Of course you don’t want to hear it all again. But for me, it’s amazing.”

“I know.” Cas is smiling fondly as he drops into the seat next to where Dean is standing. “How did your Herbology final go?”

“Perfectly fine,” Dean says before concentrating on the cup again so he can change it back. Then, he returns the little mouse safely to the cage in the classroom. “Cas?”

“Hm?” Cas looks over at him from where he’s making snowflakes fall from the stone ceiling.

“What will happen when we get back?”

“You mean with school? Same stuff.” Cas shrugs. Dean can feel Cas’s eyes on him so he doesn’t turn to face Cas. “You mean something else though?”

He tries to look nonchalant, finally turning around and leaning back against the nearest desk. “Sure. You know.” Cas just looks confused. “We still going to hang out?”

“Um, of course,” Cas answers immediately, “you’re my best friend.”

Dean feels warm to his toes to hear Cas say it. “I guess we’ll have lots to catch up on.”

“Oh!” Cas says suddenly. “Dean, can I write to you?”

“What?”

“We can’t do spells but we can use owls. Send letters and stuff. I’ll send Minerva right away so she can see your house, and then you can send a letter back with her. She’ll go after your chocolates but you can’t let her eat any. Dean?”

Dean blinks quickly and clears his throat. “I… Yes. I’d love to get your letters, Cas.”

“Oh Dean, I wouldn’t ignore you over Christmas. I’d just call you except my dad thinks phones are strange, you know.”

Dean laughs, imagining Cas’s dad squinting at the landline in their kitchen. “Maybe one day he can use the one at my house.”

“Oh, they’d love to visit! My mom would enchant everything in your bathroom and you’ll never clean it again.” Cas smiles at him and Dean crosses the room to sit down next to him. “And I’ll meet Sam, of course, and you can show me the lake and your mom’s stuff. Then you can come and visit _me_ and we’ll fly around all over and eat tons of pumpkin pasties. And then we’ll come back to Hogwarts and we’ll keep getting so good at our magic and we’ll be the very best.”

And Dean reaches for his best friend’s hand, beaming at him. “Of course we will, Cas. Me and you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write a Hogwarts AU. I sincerely, genuinely, literally could not have done this without help so thank you to every single person who has supported me in this endeavor. Kudos and comments are amazing, I would love to know what you think! And if you have ideas for the sequel... ;)
> 
> [on tumblr](http://profound-boning.tumblr.com/post/170928667384/)


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